COMMITTED

Commit is a strange word having many meanings.  I just explained what it meant to me when I accidently hit a wrong key.  I spent the next thirty minutes pulling out my hair, screaming at myself for being so left brained, (or is it right brained?).  I was ready to be committed, locked up for the night or more, simply because I had earlier made a commitment to write about one word for the day.  I want to keep my word, even if just for myself.

For me to commit to love or life

used to have an old fashioned meaning

to me it was a covenant

a pledge of fidelity, love, and honor

to husband or wife.

meaning vows that could not be broken,

not just a momentary token.

I am sad to say this very day

there are temporary marriages,

disposable in society’s eyes,

easily tossed away even if someone cries.

lasting until someone deemed better,

for richer or more, better looking,

something external, surreal

not honesty, hard work that’s real,

committed to more than temporary ideal.

someone who is like fool’s gold,

a flash in the pan, but otherwise worthless.

My love, life, and future was based on biblical teachings and the examples of my parents and siblings. My commitments were based on covenant and sacred vows, my word, and my own way of choosing who I am. I write and select the things kept safe in my heart, and I am ashamed when I fail myself or others. I am committed to my personal beliefs and that commitment, such as respect for all people, drives me forward to our future.

june 23, 2017

THE OCEAN IS GOING, GOING, GONE!

THE BEAUTIFUL  POLLUTED SEA

 

I must go down to the sea again,

And once more plead our case,

But what more can I say

To defend the human race?

The greenhouse effect

Nature will correct

But will the ocean always survive?

 

I must go down to the sea again

To stare into the sea’s angry eyes,

The gulls no longer scream at me

Or turn cartwheels in the sky.

There’s not much good left on earth,

The spaceships are full of trash

I can’t get away and there’s no place I can fly.

 

I must go down to the sea again,

To count the fish that have died,

I’ll run in the morning mist,

And pretend I was kissed

By a nymph who still has a smile.

I’ve been told the ocean is cleaner

Than when Columbus sailed the ocean blue,

But I’m not convinced; what about you?

 

I want to go down to the seas again

While the sea still has a chance at life,

It won’t be long before life’s all gone

And heroes will sail no more,

One more trip aboard a ship

Before we cast Satan overboard,

Quoth the angel to Satan,”Nevermore.!

 

 

I must go to the seas again,

But I know it’s already too late.

The sea is rising along the shore

And the world will fight its fate

Like a fish it will go belly up

And sing the warrior song

Beautiful world! We who are about to die,

Salute you.

Stack our bodies and start the flames,

The ones who fought , remember their names

Honor them forevermore.

We fought with vigor, and we fought with  pride.

The ocean covers all our friends who lived and died.

 

The ocean is overflowing with God’s own tears

Because of man and his foolish pride.

I must go down to the sea again,

But I’ve long forgotten why.

No one wants to try.

June 9, 2017

 

 

 

HERE TODAY, GONE TOMORROW

EVANESCENT

Over periods of time people have taken their told,
Some in search for gold,
Some because they were bold,
Some for reasons that were never told.
A large lake, fed by large rivers in the San Joaquin,
Was the lifegiving force for thousands of years
To Indian tribes, trappers, and explorers.
Over one thousand square miles,
The largest fresh water lake west of the Mississippi River,
A large fishing industry, the land of giant beaver and otters,
A lake that took three days for a schooner to cross,
In a very short time, became evanescent,
Forgotten by all who used to admire.
Along with the native tribes, the gold rush turned the heads
Of miners, then vast farms that appeared and went, farmers
Spent the water reserves.
Today the great desert waits for a drink but its throat remains parched.

May 24, 2017

PRECIPICE

Beat the drums! Let the trumpets blast!
Actors ramble across the world’s stage,
What an ensemble! What a cast!
We are standing on the precipice of a new age,
History in the making as we turn another page.
I stepped up and paid my fee,
Hoping the play would seem real.
I got more than I bargained for,
And yet I’m getting a raw deal!
In so many languages our secrets were globally shared.
Step right up and get the latest news,
The drama, the lies, the action…
As if anyone really cared.
I think I’ll turn the TV back on,
The world news is ready to begin.
But no, I hesitate, it seems like the same news again.
As for the truth, he’s doing what? To who? Why? And when?
While others stand and shake their heads,
Don’t they know lying is a sin?
I’ll be sad when the play is over,
The fireworks will light up the sky.
But if those aren’t real fireworks,
There will be no time to sit and cry.

May 17, 2017

COLLABORATION

COLLABORATION (MEDICAL version)

So many people with numerous degrees,
Acknowledgements, honors and pedigrees,
Each contributing with all they do,
Unselfish and willing, just like you.
Climbing and wending their way to the top,
Gaining a life-long education that will never stop.
Research rewarded by new found cures,
Insatiable curiosity that will always endure.
All are determined to become the very best
At their own specialties, beyond the rest.
They work as teams though miles apart,
Connected by love, working heart to heart.
Not at the expense of others they’ve joined along the way,
Instead, locking arms and reaching above yesterday.
In unison they march, pushing barriers aside,
Creating new tomorrows, prejudices denied.
The future promises more to those that share,
Their resources combined offer superior care.
United they stand in all that they do,
Unselfish and willing, just like you.
Not just for the moment but for always,
Providing patients with longer and better days.
Many qualified specialists linked by their expertise,
Means patients are the winners in conquering disease.

May 13, 2017

A LAMB WITH GOLDEN FLEECE

A LAMB WITH GOLDEN FLEECE

And lo, I saw a lamb with golden fleece,
Asking for reason, pleading for peace.
I asked my friends, “What does this mean?”
No one could describe what they’d never seen.
The lamb’s eyes were bleeding, swollen and raw,
There must be danger in something she saw.
From the mountains came a man from the East,
With a fierce countenance, and the mark from the beast.
The man asked, “What would it take for a war to start?”
He saluted and said, “I’m ready to blow this world apart!”
I thought about that as I traveled towards the sun,
He was right. The world’s troubles have just begun.
It only takes one crazed leader to light the fuse.
He could be already well-known and all over the news.
The lamb was quiet and then she said,
“Why do you ignore me? Do you wish to be dead?
Three large countries are ready to expand,
Where will they get their new-found land?
Will they destroy the people who live there now?
Will you defend the weak and helpless somehow?
The rules of war say be cautious, you can’t use gas,
Or other weapons of destruction, the threats will pass.
But I know your hearts,” the lamb said sadly.
“Nuclear bombs will be used, and the war will end badly.”
I could see in her eyes how the war would unfold,
Countless men lying on the ground, lifeless and cold.
And the deaths will include mothers, daughters and sons,
No one will be safe until the carnage is done.
There is one final chance for the world to have peace.”
She walked into the sunset in a blaze of golden fleece.
But I heard her words of wisdom coming from high above,
I listened then and thought she said, “It’s all about love.
We must speak up now. Every person must have a voice.
It’s now or never. We have no other choice!”

I’m only a poet trying to make sense of what I see.
I’m not ready for Armageddon and I hope you agree,
We can learn to share the world; it’s not too small for me.
We can’t ignore it much longer unless it’s meant to be.
May 15, 2017

CRUMBS OF HISTORY

What will you leave behind
When it’s time for you to pass on?
Will your work as a researcher be lost,
And all your efforts be gone?
Who will pass the torch,
And keep up the family names?
Who will uncover the family links
And who will distribute the blame?
Memories of things old or lost,
May fade or just pass away
All the things both said or done
Will remain for display.
Along the path you’ve dropped
Crumbs of your history.
Will your descendants care what happened here,
Or was it all for your vanity?

April 23, 2017